LITMIR.BIZ

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did it feel wrong?” asked Jamie.

      “I’m a soldier,” said Morton. “Or at least I was. I’ve fought enemies in every corner of the world, but nothing like that. That wasn’t human.”

      “It was,” said Jamie. “Don’t let yourself start to think otherwise. It was a human being with a disease, a disease that gave him unnatural power. It wasn’t a monster, or a demon, or anything like that.”

      “It was all wrong,” repeated Morton. He stared at Jamie, who didn’t look away; he believed he knew what his squad mate was really saying.

       He was scared. I think he’d forgotten what it feels like.

      “I’m not a soldier,” said Ellison. “I never have been. But I’d be willing to bet I’ve killed more living things than the two of you put together. Was Bingham stronger and faster than them? Yes. Was he more frightening? Definitely. But he was still just a target, one that needed taking down. Think of it that way, John. Trust me, it helps.”

      Jamie glanced over at Ellison, whose attention was fixed on her squad mate.

      I got lucky here, he thought. With her. Very lucky.

      On the control screen, a grey download bar was replaced by a window containing two lines of text. He glanced up and read them.

       M-3/FIELD UPDATE RESPONSE

       NO NEW INFORMATION AVAILABLE

      Jamie returned his gaze to John Morton, and made a decision. “I’m pulling the rest of this operation,” he said. “We’re going back to the Loop.”

      Ellison frowned. “We’ve got five and a half hours until our window closes, sir.”

      “I understand that,” said Jamie. “But I’m not going after unidentified targets with a newly commissioned Operator who is having trouble. It isn’t safe.”

      “I’ll be all right,” said Morton, instantly. “Really. I just need to get my head round it.”

      “I know what you’re going through,” said Jamie. “And believe me when I tell you this doesn’t have to be a big deal. But we’re going home.”

      “Don’t do this,” said Morton. “Please. We’ll be a laughing stock before we even finish our first operation.”

      “That’s enough, John,” said Ellison, shooting him a sharp sideways glance. “If he says we’re done, we’re done.”

      “It’s all right,” said Jamie. “This is on me, I promise you.”

      I hope that sounded convincing, he thought. Because I’m really not sure it is.

      Jamie addressed his squad as soon as they stepped down on to the concrete floor of the Loop’s hangar.

      “Good work,” he said. “Honestly. There’s one less vampire out there and we came home in one piece. That’s a good day around here, trust me. Go and get some rest and I’ll message you as soon as I have tomorrow’s schedule. Dismissed.”

      His new squad mates faced him. Ellison’s skin was pale, but her eyes were sharp, and Jamie already found himself full of admiration for her; she nodded, gave him a quick smile, and headed for the elevators. Morton lingered a moment longer; his face was tight with anger, his jaw clenched, his mouth squeezed shut.

      “Something you want to say, Operator?” Jamie asked.

      Morton held Jamie’s gaze for a long moment, then shook his head. “No, sir,” he said, then turned and strode away across the hangar.

      Jamie watched him go, guilt churning in his stomach.

      He had lied to Morton, lied to them both; what their squad had done was far from good work. They had destroyed the first of their targets, but cancelling an operation once it was under way was going to mean questions from his superiors. He had turned it over and over in his head on the way back to the Loop, and was already second-guessing the decision he had made.

      Maybe Morton had been right, and the rookie Operator had just needed some time to get his head round what had happened with Bingham, to face his fear and deal with it. Maybe he had overreacted, panicked at the first sign of potential trouble. But in the short time Jamie had been a member of Blacklight, he had seen too many people hurt, too many people killed, to take chances; the stakes were simply too high.

      He had told the truth about one thing; he would make sure any negative fallout from the aborted mission fell squarely on him. He would not let Morton or Ellison take the blame for his decision.

      Jamie scanned the hangar for the Duty Officer and signalled him over.

      “Is there a debrief?” he asked.

      “No, sir,” replied the Officer. “Written reports only, sir.”

      “OK. Thanks.”

      The man nodded and went back to what he was doing. Jamie set off in the other direction, heading towards the lift at the end of the Level 0 corridor. He was relieved that he was not required to brief the Interim Director; he had no desire to explain what had happened now.

      It could wait until the morning.

      Two minutes later Jamie was standing outside the door to his quarters, almost exactly halfway along the long, curving corridor on Level B. He pulled his ID card from its pouch in his uniform, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. A pile of divisional reports teetered on the surface of his small desk, but he didn’t so much as glance at them. Instead, he dragged his uniform from his body, hung it on the hooks behind his door and flopped down on to his bed. His eyes closed, and thirty seconds later he was asleep.

       Thud.

      Jamie’s eyes fluttered and an involuntary groan emerged from his lips. His brain swam slowly into action, feeling thick and heavy.

      Thud. Thud thud.

      The noise reverberated through his tired skull as he forced his eyes open. He reached for his console and read the white numbers at the top of the screen.

      02:32:56

       Thud thud thud thud thud.

      He swore loudly, swung his legs down from his bed, and made his way across his quarters. He pulled his uniform back on, then opened the door.

      Standing outside in the corridor was Jacob Scott, the veteran Australian Colonel. Behind him, their faces pale, were the members of the Zero Hour Task Force.

      “Lieutenant Carpenter,” said Colonel Scott. His usually warm tone was curt and businesslike. “You need to come with us.”

      “Am I in trouble?” asked Jamie. He couldn’t think of anything he had done that would warrant such heavyweight attention, but nor could he think of any other reason why most of the senior Operators in the Department would be knocking on his door in the middle of the night.

      “Nothing like that,” replied Colonel Scott. “There’s a situation that requires our attention.”

      Jamie groaned. “You couldn’t have messaged me?”

      “Not while ISAT is ongoing,” replied Scott. “Until they’re finished, we can’t assume electronic communications are secure.”

      Jamie glanced at Paul Turner. “This is serious, isn’t it?” he asked.

      “Yes, Lieutenant,” said Colonel Scott. “It’s serious.”

      13

      SOCIAL NETWORKING

      STAVELEY, NORTH DERBYSHIRE

      ONE WEEK EARLIER

      Greg Browning put on his headset and prepared to talk

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